


Yet We're All Villians (in Another's Tale)

by OpalLil



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, King Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Not Beta Read, POV Third Person, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalLil/pseuds/OpalLil
Summary: For every hero, there is a villian they overcame. And every villain will loose, for only heroes, winners, tells their tales...Every Side has been almost villainous at some point, has done something evil or wicked. Whether it is true or not, or has been placed upon them as the scapegoat, only they know the truth of their misdeeds.We don't like acknowledging our faults, and neither do the Sides. They distance themselves from their faults, until they can no longer be tied together. After all, if everyone's a hero unto themselves, then what are villains but heroes from another angle?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 2





	Yet We're All Villians (in Another's Tale)

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you for stopping by, and maybe reading my story. It's been a while since I've posted or even "published" anything.
> 
> Secondly, this is not a human, coffee shop, or Dark Side!Virgil AU. This is a retelling of the Sides collective past and their misdeeds. It is an AU, as literally everything is, but if you've come looking for Kitten!Virgil or a Dark Sides centric story, then all I can say is I wish you luck on your journey, and ask you stay anyway.
> 
> Finally, I am beta-less, so any mistakes you see, please feel free to comment or message me. I don't bite, and can take a bit of constructive criticism. This also goes for clarification, as I know what's going on in the character's heads and what is happening in every scene. Sometimes I obscure details because it feels right, so please ask any I'll try and clarify for you guys.
> 
> That being said, warnings are in the tags and at the begining of every chapter. Any complaints, tell me. And any corrections, Tell Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for homophobia and a potentially gory scene. No blood is involved nor is any violence, but it's similar enough and might effect some people.

* * *

_"_ … _some of the most terrible things in the works are done by people who think, truly think, that they’re doing it for the best, especially if there is some god involved.” (Terry Pratchett)_

* * *

Aeneas cared about his fellow sides – all of them – and knew his place in everything. How he was to drive Thomas further, farther, and push his creative limits. But while that might be his main job, the one he was titled for, that doesn’t only mean it was his only role to play nor spot to fill.

He was Creativity, and drive; reflection and passion. There was little creativity couldn’t do when he put his mind to it.

But sometimes, the others forgot that he was more than doodles on spare pieces of paper, or that he was the reason behind their determined practice on algebra of all things. Aeneas was and is more than what he is most known for, though that is not to say it isn’t one of his main facets, expressed or otherwise.

Patton was the most forgetful of that fact, often getting frustrated over his fantasizing or creative outlets, not realizing that if he didn’t do this now, didn’t encourage Thomas to peruse his heart’s desire or speak up, that they would all be affected in the end. They couldn’t live only for others, though they do help give life meaning, as that would slowly tear them apart, making life worse for the one they were destined to care for.

He had a good reason to be angry, to… _hate_ Aeneas with such ironic passion, but it shouldn’t get in the way of their jobs or priorities.

Though he supposes that it was only a matter of time until one of their objectives ran opposed to another’s. Even sadder still that it’s Patton and himself conflicting once again. If the last time was any testament, then this time will end just as poorly and with nearly as much pain on all sides. He hopes it won’t be any worse, but with how long this issue has been simmering, Aeneas highly doubts that.

Thomas has been walking on egg shells for the past week because of them and their clashes. Patton’s uncharacteristically aggressive or violent outbursts. Aeneas’ quiet and care; his fear and caution. And Logic, caught up in the cross fire, unable to intervene because it’s not his “place,” or his “area of expertise.”

No one thought that it would all come to a head today, but then again, they didn’t really have a date or specific time for it to occur; it’s not one of those things you can set aside room in your calendar or schedule for. _Oh, I guess I can join you for an awkward conversation and or screaming match at 2pm for 30 minutes, but I have to go over to Logic’s for a spot of tea afterwards, so can we keep it brief? Thanks!_ Yeah, no.

All jokes aside, they really should have tried that. Just talking it out, fixing the issue and seeing each other’s perspective.

“Are you _trying_ to turn Thomas into a hell bound _fag_?” Patton…

“Just because you can’t face the facts doesn’t mean Thomas should suffer for your ignorance.” It shouldn’t have come down to this.

“ _My_ ignorance? You’re the one who’s… who’s _fucking up_ Thomas! _Your_ choice is the only thing causing Thomas suffering!” We would have been fine.

“No one here had any choice in the matter. It just was, is, and will be. If you really want to point fingers, tell me: didn’t your God create us all like this?” We could have talked it out.

“You’re the one giving Thomas those thoughts – those _dreams!_ You have perfect control over what he thinks, so you’re the one responsible for his pain! _You_ ! All you, and _only_ you!”

“Wait, Pat-“

“If you weren’t so messed up, so conceited, so _you_ , we would be perfectly fine and happy… Without _you_ …” I’m sorry.

* * *

The current situation was entirely avoidable. Mitigatable. Preventable. It didn’t have to evolve into this. It really shouldn’t have, in all honesty. History and reality dictate that this piece of themselves is perfectly natural, if uncommon, and is found in almost every other species on the planet.

Logan knew perfectly well that this dilemma was and still is a matter of the heart, not of the mind. Yet he can’t help but think that it all could have been avoided, if he just stepped in. If he just said something. If he just confronted Patton. All of this could have been avoided, but it wasn’t, and there’s no reason or time to look at ifs or maybes.

Logan knows he’s not good when it comes to his emotions – it’s not his area of expertise nor will it ever be – but he can remember and recall. He can extrapolate what happened and what came from that happenstance. So, with Creativity locking himself in his room, Patton binging _Snow-white_ and _Sleeping Beauty_ – something he only does when he’s either really angry or otherwise moody – it isn’t hard to see what’s going on.

It’s Patton’s job is to keep everyone happy and mentally well, to keep Thomas on the right path and morally correct. He looks out for everyone and their emotions, but occasionally at the cost of some of Thomas’ joy or time. He’s not bad at his job, far from it, but sometimes he’s too conscious of the thoughts of others, or their opinions. Morality is, by nature, outwards minded. 

Conversely, it’s his job to see the numbers and figures. To see how and why something happened, and the effects of it. Numbers don’t have feelings, and facts are not subjective, no matter how you look at them. They may change due to altered parameters, but so long as the formula is followed, everything makes perfect sense. Always. He knows that if Thomas is attacked, he is allowed to physically harm the person.

Patton knows that harming others is not allowed, and he also understands why.

Finally, there is Creativity’s job to add colour and thought to Logan’s ridged shapes and images. He is the one to create and design and inspire Thomas to do more. He gives drive. He is passion and strength. He knows their emotions in an unbiased way, and uses them to further develop them. The intersect between the intricate yet apathetic shape of reality, and the vibrant yet confined colours of emotion.

Patton is only tying his best, and all for Thomas’ continued social standing, his social connections, and his family. But so focused on other’s thoughts, he sometime forgets that these actions have consequences on the one he was trying to protect.

So tangled up in his tapestry of right and wrong, he makes Creativity change the hes to shes in their stories. He makes Logan stay silent and questioning when he wants to ask their mother what kissing a guy is like. He makes Thomas doubt himself, lie to himself, and hate part of himself so he fits into their family’s mould.

A tremor breaks Logan from his thoughts. Patton too has since paused the movie on screen and vaulted across the couch back. Just as he was reaching Logan, another vibration wracks the Mindscape, tossing him to the ground along with a few knick-knacks and books from the nearby shelves.

Upon the third quake, a piercing scream rings out from down the nearby hallway, the only one down there being Creativity. The first thought to come to Logan was that he probably broke something – likely himself from the sound of the scream. The second was that he was probably about to break something from how quickly and violently Patton pushed him aside.

Though abrupt, Logan swiftly righted himself and sped off to follow his fellow side. As fast as he tried to go, Patton took two steps for every one of Logan’s. Past their closet or cupboard – no-one could decide on an apt description or title for it – that once held decorative spare bedding and other nonsense. Some glass and pictures littered the floor from the tremor, marginally hindering Logan’s speed for fear of pain.

No matter how little it should hurt, as they didn’t exactly have physical nerves or bodies, or how much he tried to convince himself, it still hurt like hell.

In no time at all, Patton had come to the ajar doorway that led to Creativity’s room. He abruptly stopped the moment the door was flung fully open, leading to a panicking Logan smashing into his back.

Internally grumbling about all the falling going on as of late, he stood up once again and saw what cause the charging bull to halt. 

There before them lay Creativity, writhing in pain on the carpeted floor, black ink surrounding him in a macabre parody of blood. There was even a handprint stained and splattered onto the floor, with sporadic lines from a quick retreat back into the curled foetal position he adopted.

Another cry of pain rent through the air, emanating from Creativity. Too stunned or horrified by what they saw, neither side moved to the other’s aide, and watched on as he started to glow white. Spasming as if electrocuted, flinging droplets of ink in a sick facsimile of the deep red of blood, Creativity looked to be dying before them.

Then, suddenly, stillness. No sound or movement broke through to them. It seemed to be over, whatever it was.

And just as swiftly, all either could see was blinding white with sunspots creeping across their vision, and an eternal cry leaving in its wake ringing gongs. Nothing else could be seen and nothing more could be heard. It soon started blurring together, noise becoming white and sight becoming loud.

Slowly, ever so slowly, their vision began to quiet, and the noise stopped being so blinding. Little things, like the colour black or blurred shapes beginning to come into view. Or the sound of laboured breathing, four distinct paces of it; two calm, and two hyperventilating.

Logan fully opened his eyes and saw before him a sight he hoped never to see again.

There before him and Patton sat two figures, mirrored in position and opposed in clothing. Where there should have been one, only other one welcome in the light, now sat two identical in base form yet different already in persona and appearance. No longer was Creativity around as he once was, but instead split.

Creativity was backed up into the room’s wall, panting and wide eyed, while the other was pushed into the opposed and in a state much the same, but with a smile just a tad too big. Eyes just a bit too wide. Teeth just a little too sharp. Clad in black and green, an emerald embeded circlet around his head, the shadow leered at the three of us, smirk sharpened like that of the knife in one’s back.

In the lingering calls of agony, murmured noes and other noises of denial flowed over and across the eardrums, emanating from Creativity, the shade spoke. For the first time, and yet just like every other, we heard its voice.

“Any of you got a bagel?”

Somehow, in the storm of insanity that was created with it, the parasite was the only normal thing in the room at that very moment. The normality, if not situational absurdity, of it made everything seem that bit more surreal, and it that much creepier. Creativity was the first to recover from the gale, desperately trying to calm his breathing and parse out his own question, though his words seem to be uncooperative at the moment.

The smirk took on a slightly softer look, one that spoke of familiarity and patient patronising born from long standing endurance. “I don’t want one, really, but eclairs are hard to come by for myself! I just love how they ooze when you _bite_ into them!”

They heard a thud from the doorway, and turned to see Patton, passed out on the floor after fainting, hand pressed into his face. It was likely caused by shock, maybe even empathetic horror or revulsion on account of his own experiences. There before all of them, was what they swore to never happen again, swore to prevent at all costs. There before them, sat a Fracture.

* * *

Upon his awakening, Patton was inconsolable. He was the most adamant about never letting such a thing happen again, as he was the one most affected last time, the one who suffered above all else from Creativity’s actions. But it seems karma is a cruel mistress, and he caused another fissure to occur. Now, Creativity will never be whole again, and he was the one to cause it.

If he weren’t so focused on other’s, he might have noticed Thomas’ issue before it spiralled into what it is now. If he acted nicer and kinder to Creativity, told him why they shouldn’t choose to be like that. If he could have convinced Logic to help him, provide him with the facts he so adores and knows. If, if, if…

He knows that acting like that is wrong, that there are plenty of girls out there – all of them more suitable than what he wanted. He even knows that there are other species out there that like both their own gender and another. He knows that there are plenty of examples of homosexual animals out there. He knows that there are cases of homosexuality in the human race, and others out there that don’t feel their body’s gender, or aren’t interested in anyone, regardless of gender.

But he also knows stories of others who have come out to less religious families and had worse reactions. That the one gay girl in school doesn’t have enough to eat or comes to and from school with more bruises than she had the other day. That there’s an annual parade that goes through the town’s main street with rainbows, but by lunch the colour and laughter are replaced with brief streaks of red and deathly silence. That Thomas is better off a practice target hidden in the back of the shed than on an active gun range.

Patton only meant the best, only meant to help them live longer and better lives. He had good intentions, but sometimes that’s not enough. If everyone’s the hero in their own stories, then who is there left to play the villain?

If everyone is their own hero, then everyone’s a villain in another’s story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have been exceptionally fortunate enough to have not been discriminated against for my sexuality or preferences in general. Because of that, I wasn't quite sure how to portray it accurately and in a believable manner.
> 
> If you have any corrections to it, or help for how to depict it, feel free to let me know.


End file.
